


when the hairpins start to drop

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2018, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “We should take advantage of the moment,” Sara insists.“I’d rather not.”





	when the hairpins start to drop

**Author's Note:**

> day two of femslash february, and it's just shameless avalance smut, oops

“We should take advantage of the moment,” Sara insists.

She’s sitting on the floor of the elevator, having already given up waiting for the elevator to resume its timely trek back on its path, and instead deciding to make herself at home there. Ava glances down at her, she looks comfortable and at ease, the exact opposite of how Ava is feeling. 

“I’d rather not,” Ava says, tearing her eyes away from Sara, and the offer that she was so clearly presenting. An offer that Ava could not accept. 

After all, she is technically on the clock. 

_ Technically _ . 

She had agreed to help Sara with an anachronism, or… More accurately had insisted upon tagging along to make sure the Legends didn’t mess this one up even worse. Though why she had ever expected anything involving the  _ Legends  _ to go easily Ava wasn’t certain. It figured that the part of the mission that she was involved with would be the part to go wrong.

Leaving her trapped, in an elevator, with Sara.

Apparently, according to the report that came through their earpieces ten minutes ago the rest of the mission had gone off without a hitch and the anachronism had been handled. 

The only part that was left was well… Them.

“Why not,” Sara asks, persistent in her single minded interests.

“Maybe I’m claustrophobic,” Ava says, eyes darting up to the camera that should be watching the elevator, as she pressed the service request button once more. She would have created a time portal to remove them from the elevator when the problem first appeared had it not been for the cameras. 

Memories could be erased, but cameras, here in the early 2000s, were a little bit more bothersome.

There’s still no reply from the help button. 

“You’re not,” Sara points out. “Remember that cave in Greenland, when you-”

“I remember,” Ava says, cutting her off quickly. Her voice is tight, not from the memory of that  _ cave _ , though certainly she did remember it. 

How could she forget  _ that _ , but then again, the circumstances had been different, and they had needed to create body heat or risk freezing to death, whereas here the risk was very different.

Sara was right, Ava isn’t claustrophobic.

But having a minor fear of falling to her death in an elevator is a completely different story. 

The off bit of her tone does not go unnoticed by Sara, despite Ava hoping that it would have, and a moment later she can hear Sara getting up off of the ground. Crossing the very small space between them to stand next to Ava’s side. 

Sara leans against her - something Ava has noticed occurring with more and more frequency - her head resting on Ava’s shoulder, as she reaches forward to push the same button that Ava has been pushing for the last thirty minutes.

Predictably nothing happens. 

Sara’s voice when she speaks is low, still suggestive, but softer now, “It might help take your mind off of things.”

“Sara,” she turns slightly, shifting away from the elevator buttons, and when she does, Sara presses up on her toes, to pull Ava into a kiss.

It’s light. Softer that their usual. The type of kisses that they reserve for lazy mornings in Ava’s bed, not in the middle of the mission. Sara’s lips against her as a cool comfort, moving slowly coaxing Ava into a feeling of safety. Where all she can focus on is Sara’s lips against hers, not their slightly botched mission or the fact that she was still stuck in an elevator. 

Ava has to admit that it is a good distraction.

Pleasant enough that she forgets about all else. 

When they pull back for air, there’s a slight questioning look in Sara’s eyes. 

When she’d pictured having sex with Sara in an elevator - not something Ava pictured often, but something she had  _ considered  _ once - it was hot passion and rough hands and the desperate need to get off as quickly as possible.

Whereas this was something else entirely.

A softer note.

A distraction. 

She needs more of it.

Ava kisses Sara again, this time being the one to deepen the kiss, to hold the other woman to her so that she does not move away. Not that Sara would. Not when this was so clearly what she wanted.

It doesn’t take much, Ava weaving her hand through Sara’s hair to hold her in place, tug just a little to get one of those beautiful moans tumbling from her lips. Sara’s hips thrusting against hers, though their layers of clothing, desperate for contact, desperate to be touched.

Sara’s proposition had been to distract Ava, but suddenly the idea of taking Sara apart inch by inch, seems like exactly the distraction that Ava needs.

Ava twists their position, pushing Sara back so that her back is against the elevator buttons that still refuse to actually do anything. Sara lets out a sharp noise, pain mixed with pleasure at the contact, before pressing herself ever closer to Ava, needing more.

Which is exactly what Ava intends to give her. 

Ava pulls back from Sara for a moment, to look into her blue eyes blown wide with need and desire, to see her cheeks flushed with heat and color, to focus on her lips kiss swollen and pink parted in the shape of Ava’s name. 

“Please, Ava,” Sara says, her hips canting forward ever so slightly, solid where she presses against Ava’s bent leg wedged between two of her own, “Please.” 

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Sara nods eagerly at that.

Ava kisses her again, while she pushes Sara’s skirt up with her other hand, when she presses two fingers against Sara’s core through her panties, she can feel that Sara has already soaked them through. 

If there had ever been a chance to deny her need, there so certainly no way of doing so now.

“Fuck,” Ava says, against Sara’s lips, pulling back just a little, not even an inch between them “You’re so-”

“It’s all I could think of,” Sara admits, “Ever since the elevator stopped, all I wanted was you, all I ever want-”

“I know,” Ava says.

Because she can feel Sara’s want plainly there.

Because Ava knows all too well the feeling of wanting someone. 

She pushes Sara’s panties to the side, presses two fingers up into her. Ava knows Sara’s body well by now, it’s far from the first time they’ve done this, not even the first time in such a public place. She knows exactly which way to work her fingers, where to press, and how hard to do so, to have Sara a mess in her hands. 

They kiss sloppily, what had been soft and tender at first, hot and passion before, now turns into something far less graceful. Sara’s moans, broken and needy against Ava’s lips. A slow repetitive iternation of something like Ava’s names joining the noises when she picks up her pace, shifting slightly so she presses just right inside of Sara.

She wants to do so much more than this.

She wants to be home, where she can lay Sara out on her bed, and put their extensive collection of sex toys to good use.

There will be time for that later.

For now, she makes due with what she has.

Presses her thumb against Sara’s clit, making harsh circles there, a touch that’s just this side of rough, just enough, just the way she knows to make Sara come undone.

And she does.

Sooner rather than later.

Arching her back so that her head hits sharp against the wall of the elevator, eyes slipping shut as she loses herself to pleasure, clenching down on Ava’s fingers one last time. Ava watches her, watches Sara come apart on her fingers, works her through the aftershocks. Until the only part of her body that is moving is her chest heaving as she slowly starts to breathe again, flushed from where the cut of her top exposes her neck and collarbones, the gathering of wetness around the edges of her eyes. 

She’s beautiful.

She’s always beautiful.

Ava feels it now, her own need and want pooled low inside of her, desperate to do so much more than just watch Sara come undone. Their precarious situation is all but forgotten, Sara having actually managed to provide that  _ distraction  _ that she had so eagerly insisted she could be before. 

Ava’s most beautiful distraction. 

She pulls her fingers out of Sara slowly, brings them up to her own lips to taste Sara on her tongue. She does not,  _ could not _ , miss the way that Sara’s eyes follow her, they’re foggy now, glazed over with pleasure, but they seem to focus on Ava when she slips two of her fingers inside her mouth sucking down on them.

Sara letting out a soft sort of needy sound, “Baby, you can’t just- Fuck.”

Ava slips the fingers out of her mouth, raising an eyebrow at Sara, in a silent question.

Holding onto what little strength of mind she has left, she moves Sara to the side slightly, to press against the  _ emergency service call  _ button once more.

As expected, nothing comes. 

This suddenly doesn’t seem like as much of a disappointment as it had been before.

She turns back to Sara, and simply says, “Didn’t you say something about distracting me?” 

  
  



End file.
